i'm awake, alone,
and all is still in the house,
not a peep or sound
except for the monotonous drizzles
of rain drops tapping
on the plain little window sill
and there i sit
legs curled up and unwilling to move
facing the unkempt lawn,
the stooping pine trees,
over the narrow broken bridge
and peering out into the darkness
way into the darkness,
searching for my banished soul
i can hear it whisper
'save me' it says,
but the night is harsh
for i cant trace it's voice
the voice of my dying soul
and it appears to be
yet another lonely night
how many more must i live to see?
i do not know yet.
probably till what's left of it dies as well!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem